Taken by the Highest Bidder

Sam bunched her hands in her lap, watching Monaco’s picturesque streets flash by. Her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking and she had to draw a deep breath to steady her nerves. Thank God Gabby was still in school for the rest of the morning. Maybe, just maybe, this nightmare could be fixed before Gabby returned at three.

But before she had a chance to talk about Gabby, Cristiano’s phone rang and after checking the number, he took the call. It was a relatively long call and he was still on the phone when he slowed in the driveway approaching the Hotel de Paris. Tourists filled the elegant square, spilling from tour buses and vans onto the different plazas, snapping photos, posing for pictures, clustering outside the historic Café Divan inspecting the menu.

Sam took in and dismissed the throngs. Monaco was always crowded. Daily tourists, from all over the world, overran the tiny principality eager to visit the fabled home of Prince Rainer and his late wife, the former American film star, Grace Kelly.

What she wanted, needed, was Cristiano’s attention. What she wanted, needed, wasn’t going to happen.

As valet attendants came forward to take the car, Sam fought tears. He hadn’t even given her the time of day.

Stepping from the car, Sam smoothed her coat over her dress and waited in front of the Hotel de Paris while Cristiano finished the call.

Anger burned in her, anger and indignation. What kind of man took a woman from her family? What kind of man would accept a wagered wife?

It disgusted her, horrified her, and her hands clenched helplessly inside her coat pockets, her gaze fixed on the hotel’s belle epoch architecture. Be calm, she told herself, be calm. Losing control won’t help anything.

She focused on the hotel’s architecture instead. The Hotel de Paris and Le Casino were both constructed in the middle of the nineteenth century on a square overlooking the sea. She’d read somewhere that the square had once been an untidy wasteland, overgrown with dense vegetation, hiding deep in the cliffs near seawater-filled caves.

Apparently the famous Monte Carlo Le Casino had been built first, and the hotel second, the hotel just steps from the casino. Once the hotel was finished, stables were added to house horses and carriages, then a fountain designed, and finally gardens landscaped with imported palm trees to create an exotic tableau to lure winter weary Parisians.

Sam was no Parisian, but she was weary. Very weary.

He had to let her explain about Gabby, had to listen to Gabriela’s situation. Gabby couldn’t be left with Johann. Johann might be her father but he wasn’t to be trusted, especially not with a vulnerable child.

Abruptly Cristiano finished his call and put away his phone. “I’m sorry—”

“No. No,” she said fiercely, hands bunching into fists inside her coat pockets. “I won’t go.”

“Baroness—”

“You don’t understand. This isn’t about me, it’s about Gabriela.”

His hard expression briefly eased. “I’m not sending you on your way, Baroness.”

“You’re not?”

“No. I was going to say, I’m sorry I had to take the call, but I’ve taken care of my meeting. There’s nowhere I have to be for the next hour. We’re free now to sit down and discuss Gabriela.”

Sam felt relief and embarrassment wash through her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I thought…assumed…you were giving me the brush-off.”

His eyes, hazel green and gold, warmed. “Give you the brush-off? Baroness, I’ve just spent ten million pounds to make you mine. The last thing I want to do is give you the brush-off.”

His. There was that possession again. His, to be his, to belong to someone. To belong to a man.

It was odd, she thought, nerves twitching, her body so tense she felt like the tightened strings on a violin, but she’d been married twice and had never belonged to a man. And now Cristiano Bartolo talked about possession and yet there’d be no marriage.

Life was strange. No, make that impossible.

“Shall we go in?” Cristiano said, gesturing to the hotel.

“Mr. Bartolo?”

“Yes, Baroness?”

Something in his voice made her blush, and she took a step back, her skin tingling, a fire burning from the inside out. He was hard, male, confident. Strong.